


serotonin

by terrible_lizard



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Baristas, F/F, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Slow Burn, Soft Neil Josten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrible_lizard/pseuds/terrible_lizard
Summary: Just a little coffeeshop!au where kids are (almost) alright to soothe my soul.This is basically a series of short stories in the same setting. I'll keep adding relationships and characters once they appear in text (but just know that I'm a sucker for Andreil).
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. syd matters - obstacles

Well, this is the best it’s gonna get, thought redhead standing at the dirty mirror in a tiny hostel room. He examines his face for another second just to make sure that scratches don’t look too bad and eyes aren’t irritated because of contacts. Then he pulled over turtleneck shirt, checked if collar was high enough, and finally took his duffel bag from under the bed. 

He surely knew he will look suspicious with this thing on a job interview, but it’s not safe leaving it here. Maybe getting a backpack was a nice idea, but when you’re that short on cash you probably won’t choose a non-suspicious bag over a few days worth of food.

It took almost half an hour of walking to get to Foxhole. He wasn’t mad though, since it give him enough time to rehearse his lines at the interview a few more times just to make sure his responses will be smooth. 

Foxhole was a small coffee shop on the ground floor, with a couple of tables and a chalkboard outside. It surely looked like a family business, but the name was strange - usually you expect surname of the owner or something like this on a signboard. He pulled the door open and took a step inside.

“Hello, my name Neil Josten. I’m here for my job interview”.

Blonde girl at the counter distracted from laying out fresh pastry, raised her head and smiled at Neil. Two things caught his attention: bright pastel colors on the tips of her hair and a silver cross that probably got out from under her shirt when she leaned over.

“Nice to see you, I’m Renee. Mr Wymack must be here soon, you can just sit and wait for him here”.

“Sure, thank you”.

He chose a place near the exit - which honestly could be said about any of two tables inside: the shop was small and it surely was more a to go thing. Nonetheless, the counter looked neat and tidy, while all of the syrup bottles, bags with coffee beans from different countries and small potted plants on little shelves behind Renee added more rustic, but comforting feeling to it. Big window sills were covered with plants, too.

It was a bad idea. It was a very, very bad idea. You don’t show up to a nice place like this with a shitty fake ID looking for a job. Honestly, why did he even believe all those Glassdoor reviews and found courage to get here? Probably, he just wanted something good for himself for once. And now was extremely mad at himself for even giving it a chance.

Finally, the owner of Foxhole showed up, stopping boy from eating himself alive. He looked way too rugged and husky for this place, but Neil knew first hand you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

“Hi, I’m David Wymack, sorry to keep you waiting”.

They ran through some basic questions, and Wymach didn’t even look closely at his ID. But he did look at Neil’s bag under the table. “Are you new in town?” 

“Yes. Actually, we had a bet with my parents whether I could live on my own...”

“Sure”, answered Wymack, clearly not buying any of the shit. He didn’t say anything else, clearly thinking about what to do with him.

Neil sat still, everything inside him shrank, waiting for being rejected and trying to absorb disappointment in advance so it won't show like a big deal for him. Finally, Wymack opened his mouth and said:

“Well, I think you’re hired”.

Shocked, Neil let Wymack run him through some details, and a rate was even better than Josten would even allow himself to expect. He will need some training, but even that will be paid. Neil just couldn’t believe it.

“By the way, I own a place upstairs, and I was thinking about renting a room. If you’re interested, you can take a look. I can wait a month with first payment”.

Before Neil could said anything, Wymack added:

“I don’t think a kid like you should live in a place where you can’t even leave your stuff. I’m just saying. You don’t need to give me your answer right now, just think about it, okay?”

***

I can’t fucking believe it, I just can’t, thought Neil later that day, accepting a back door key from David.

“We can add a lock to your door, if you need it”, said Wymach casually. Neil stared at him surprised, pretty sure he didn’t see keyholes in any other door in this house. “Just make yourself at home. And stop looking at me like I have something in my teeth because I know I don’t”.

With that Wymack left the room. Neil carefully sat on a bed covered with bright orange blanket with white Palmetto State University logo on it, looking at the wall with blank stare. After a while he reached out to hide his bag under the bed, but decided to let it be. Maybe he will unpack it later.


	2. josé gonzález - crosses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I found a note on my laptop which says "I WANT A CHAPTER WITH RENEE AND NEIL BONDING MOMENT". That's it, nothing else.
> 
> I don't remember ever writing it, but who am I not to deliver, amirite?
> 
> Basically, this is Neil's first day at the Foxhole coffee shop.

Neil woke up the next day and for a straight minute freaked out, seeing unknown room with hoards of books (mostly about history). Then he finally remembered what happend the day before and couldn’t resist to sigh in disappointment of his own decisions. Faint smell of coffee and food touched his nose, reminding that he probably wasn’t alone.

He quickly put on his contacts and carefully opened the door. He could only see empty kitchen from this point, but it didn't look like anyone was in here except him. He then moved to a living room, part of which also served as dining room. Nobody here.

“Hello?” he asked just to be sure. 

No answer, but in a kitchen he noticed a plate with omelette wrapped in plastic, and a coffee pot which hissed softly in heating mode. It was quite ironic that owner of coffee shop was drinking drip coffee, but maybe David liked it that way.

Under the plate was a post-it which made him chuckle: it said just “EAT”. All caps, nothing else. Just eat, Neil, for god’s sake. This bold care somehow reminded him of mother. Would she be proud of him for finally getting out? Would she run away with him if she had more time? Or would she force him to stay? Neil could never know, so he shook these thoughts off. But eating his breakfast he could almost physically smell her cigarettes.

***

He still had some time for a short jogging session. He figured it would be a better way to get familiar with his new neighbourhood than a printed map from souvenir store. When he finished, Wymack still wasn’t home, so Neil took a quick shower and went downstairs.

It was Renee’s shift again. She was busy with customers - some white-collars and a lady in her fifties which turned out to be one of the regulars, as Renee knew her preferences. Neil waited at the same table as the day before, looking at the printed menu and trying to figure how to brew any of that.

Anyway, soon Renee finished with all customers so Neil could get to her. She gave him a new apron - black with bright orange paw and white 'Foxhole' written on top of it. Neil put this thing on, but Renee wasn’t satisfied with his long fringe.

“Here,” she said, giving him one of colorful hairbands that covered her wrists. Neil could see deep ugly scars underneath them, but decided not to ask and just tied his fringe to the back. “It’s not very pretty, but it’ll do it for now”. Neil didn’t mind looking ‘not pretty’, but an interesting thought crossed his mind.

“Do all baristas should look good to attract more customers?” 

“Is it a compliment or an attempt to make me say you look good?” she laughed. “But honestly, I think it depends. Some people might come to see a cute barista, but I think it’s mostly for the taste or atmosphere. You won’t get far making shitty coffee even looking like an angel. But looks and right attitude could give you tips more often, that’s for sure. But for now let me show you how it works”.

They started with simple things like learning how to brew espresso, how much shots goes into standard drinks, which pitcher goes for which type of milk and similar stuff. Even with regular interruptions by customers the amount of drinks on counter grew fast and Renee said it’s okay to pour them out.

As much as Neil hated wasting any food, after drinking a fourth cup of latte he gave up: he’s already got a little tremor and forgot how to blink, so adding any more caffeine or sugar to his system probably wouldn’t do anything good. 

They continued, and by the end of the day Neil could make all simple drinks which was a good start. He ended up even brewing a couple cups for customers. They left specialties and alternative brewing methods until the next time as Renee’s shift was about to end.

Neil helped Renee with cleaning, and when they were at the back wiping dishes, she suddenly stopped:

“Hey, so your eyes are actually blue?”.

It caught Neil completely off-guard, but a quick look at her face explained it all. Her pupils constricted under bright lamp above sink and tableware, and his own eyes should be the same. “Oh, it’s just my eyes don’t really work and I don’t like my color...”

“Don’t try feeding lies to a liar,” she suddenly smiled at his attempt, which was mediocre at best. “And I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was a hard topic. You don’t have to talk, but just know that I’m ready to listen. And I suppose we could be more alike than you think”.

The door opened before Neil could say a word. He moved back to the counter, hoping that his eyes got back to normal. The one who entered the shop was actually not a customer, but another barista - he was already tying his dark curly hair with bandana while going to the back room.

“Renee, sweatheart, I’m sorry I’m…” he’s noticed Neil and stopped mid-phrase. “…late. Hey, why didn’t I hear we have a new boy? And this cute? It’s illegal! Oh, by the way I’m Nicky - Nicky Hemmick,” he added with a smile, not looking confused even a little.

”I’m Neil, nice to meet you,” he answered automatically, being as confused as Nicky should be. ”I was already leaving,” he waved toward the exit, but Nicky suddenly caught his arm.

”Hey, what’s that?” he turned his arm so both he and Renee could see red swollen spots on the palm and inner parts of fingers. Renee’s eyes rounded as she saw it.

”Neil?” she asked in a very unkind voice. ”For God’s sake, what is it?”

He just shrugged. ”I think I might have grabbed a filter holder with coffee still in it”.

”And this is exactly why these things have handles!” Nicky exclaimed, looking impressed and terrified at the same time. Renee just couldn’t believe it. 

”And you were washing pitchers and cups for how many hours?” she was straight up furious at this point, getting first-aid kit from the cupboard. She took out some bandages and bottles and ordered: ”Your hand. Now”.

She carefully treated his burns and put on bandage - her hands moved fast, and the end result looked like it was done by a nurse.

”Thank you,” he said, looking at his hand as some sort of a miracle. 

Renee let out a sigh and put hairband off his fringe. ”Just please, don’t hide it next time”.

”My heart can’t handle seeing pretty boys in pain,” added Nicky. He’s already put on his apron with a small rainbow badge on it.

Neil got out the shop, feeling emotionally exhausted. He couldn’t understand why his burns made Renee so upset when he made such a progress and his worst mistake was adding not enough milk into big latte. Seeing lights on the first floor made him decide to take a little walk before going home. 

He ended up going almost all around the town and came back exhausted. Wymach went to bed already, but on Neil room’s door handle was a plastic bag. He found inside a pack of bandages, some ointment, a couple croissants from the Foxhole and another post-it. This one said ”TAKE CARE. TOMORROW’S THE REST DAY”.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I promise to (at least try to) post new chapters weekly and I've already prepared quite a lot of drafts while working on this AU.


End file.
